


Why I Love Him

by Kairi_of_Knives



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoilers for newest chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairi_of_Knives/pseuds/Kairi_of_Knives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Kenma wonders how the hell he got here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why I Love Him

Sometimes Kenma wonders how the hell he got here. Not here, as in his dorm room at his University in his hometown surrounded by his personal possessions, but rather here, in his dorm room with the exact type of person he used to actively try to avoid not even three years ago. Three years isn’t a short amount of time per se, but he’s certainly gone more than three years without any major changes in his life before. He had once thought that dying his hair blond would be the most radically different thing he’d ever do of his own free will.

  
He was wrong.

  
And the proof of that fact was there, lying comfortably on his bed, waiting patiently for his turn to fail at a video game, in Kenma’s dorm room at his University in his hometown surrounded by his personal possessions, a ball of orange hair, energy and mile wide grins who had not only run head first into Kenma’s walls, but continued to ram against them again and again until….

  
Well, sometimes Kenma wonders how the hell he got here.

  
\--x--

  
He’s 16 years old when he first meets Hinata Shoyo. His first impression of the boy is that he’s loud, too energetic, has zero ability to read people’s moods and is….persistent. Usually he has no trouble warding off the annoying happy types with this neutral expressions and lackluster responses (Kuro calls him “depressing”, and though he doesn’t disagree, he doesn’t agree either). But this particular boy doesn’t give up, no not even after he admits that he doesn’t care too much for volleyball, which the younger of the two obviously adores. No clear mutual interest, no prior positive experience, nothing to gain from the conversation, and yet Shoyo doesn’t relent until Kuro comes to collect Kenma.

  
That in and of itself would normally have been a bother. But for some strange reason, Kenma finds himself…amused. He doesn’t dislike Shoyo. He doesn’t particularly like him (yet), but the sheer lack of distaste mildly surprises him.

If Kenma has to determine how it started, that would probably be it.

\--x--

Their game reveals a lot more about Shoyo. Namely, he’s pretty amazing to watch play volleyball. He’s no Kuro. And he doesn’t have the raw talent that their first year setter has either. But there’s just something about the way he moved during that game…

It stirs something in Kenma’s chest that has been dead and dormant for longer than he can remember. And that something takes its first baby steps out of hiding in the form of “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

\--x--

For someone so god damn loud, Shoyo is incredibly easy to be around.

They’ve been texting back and forth a decent amount since their first game. And by that, Kenma means Shoyo has been spamming his phone with excited half sentences, emojis and terrible quality pictures. Kenma always responds, in some way, but never quite has too much to say. Still, they’ve formed a decent friendship, he thinks. He just never thought it would manifest itself this way.

They’re sitting in the room Nekoma will be sleeping in for the first training camp. Kenma expected Shoyo to be happy to see him, but not to spend almost all his spare time by his side. It’s not unwanted per se. And it becomes even…nice, as he learns for the first time that their friendship works face to face as well. Shoyo’s still loud and energetic. He asks to watch Kenma play Smash Bros 4 and has to change sitting position at least five times in an hour block, and every win yields a “gwahh” or “woah” in his ear, but while Kenma makes mental notes of these quirks, he finds that he is utterly unbothered by them.

And then, when they’re sitting idly in the gym waiting for lunch break to be over, Shoyo asks Kenma about how he met Kuro, and by the time said teen comes to call everyone back together for more practice, Kenma realizes he’s been talking for the greater part of fifteen minutes. Straight. It unsettles him, throws him off his game for the next practice match.

And when it’s time for Karasuno to get back on their bus, he realizes that he’s going to miss Shoyo. Suddenly, the week-long training camp, which he would normally dread, can’t come fast enough.

\--x--

They lost. It shouldn’t really be that much of a surprise, honestly. After all, they never beat Fukurodani Academy in camp. And Kenma didn’t honestly expect a team with Bokuto on it to stay stagnant while other groups got better…that would be foolish.

Still, when the team meeting is over and he’s safely locked in his bedroom, in his house that is vacant for at least three more hours until his mom gets home, the sharp sting of disappointment hits him so hard, it brings him to his knees.

His bag drops to the floor along with him, allowing his phone to slip out and flop open to reveal the last message he received around 2 hours ago. It’s from Shoyo of course. They’d won their division and made it to the national Spring Tournament. His friend had seemed so excited at the prospect of facing them in that real fight they promised they’d have. Where there would be no do-overs, no second chances, nothing but the stronger team left standing. Nekoma had gone so far, tried so hard, and yet….

This was all Shoyo’s fault.

That had to be it. If Shoyo hadn’t egged him on about the tournament, he wouldn’t have gotten so flustered when the latter part of the second set wasn’t going their way. He would’ve made better throws to Lev, would’ve out strategized Akaashi again. If he had never made that promise to Shoyo, he wouldn’t feel so personally responsible, wouldn’t feel _anything_ about this at all, _like normal_. If he had never _met_ Shoyo….

No.

Not that. Not even now.

His hand hesitantly reached for his phone. Shoyo had been destroyed after their loss to Aoba Johsai, but had still responded when Kenma asked how it went. To not return the favor would be beyond petty.  
Before he could start typing, he heard a knock at the front door, hard and loud and completely unexpected. Kuro knew when the spare key was kept, so it couldn’t have been him. Perhaps he’d left something at the gym or in the club room…

He thought about not answering it. He felt and probably looked like crap and his chest was still tight and his eyes were almost certainly watery. He should just let whoever it was leave any items at the door and go back to sulking, but then came another hard series of knocks and that was more annoying than answering it so Kenma wrenched open the door, scowl firmly planted on his face.

For once in the almost 6 months he’d known him, Hinata Shoyo was completely quiet.

Bag slung over his shoulder, hand still raised in a knocking gesture, Shoyo blinked and said nothing. Kenma’s mind reeled as he felt his mouth slip open, his eyes darting from the bag to Shoyo’s casual clothes to his face, which held a calm, contemplative expression that didn’t belong on someone like him. A million questions popped into his mind but only one thing slipped out.

“S-Shoyo…?”

He normally would have been embarrassed. That voice, that croak, sounded so broken and vulnerable and not at all like him. But Shoyo didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact, the corners of his mouth climbed up, slowly, higher and higher until he was giving Kenma the warmest, most soothing smile he’d ever received. Shoyo’s amber eyes flickered like a campfire, tranquil and comforting.

Kenma didn’t even realized he’s moved until his face was pressed against Shoyo’s neck, arms tightly gripping his shoulders while the rest of his body heaved and quaked with anguished sobs. The younger boy wasted no time in cradling the back of his head, carding his fingers through Kenma’s hair which was likely disgusting still from just having sweat a ton. Shoyo didn’t seem to care. He had no idea how long he’d been standing there like that, but it suddenly dawned on him all at once that he was definitely standing on his front porch hugging the hell out of another boy while crying, like this was some weird American romance movie or something…

He jerked away, feeling Shoyo’s fingers yank at his hair as he straightened. Wiping furiously at his eyes, he dared to look Shoyo in the face. He had still yet to talk, which was currently freaking Kenma out just a bit, but he still had that calming look about him. Picking up his bag, Shoyo reached out for the hand scrubbing at Kenma’s eyes, and moved in towards the open door, closing it behind them. He let the younger boy lead them into the living room and to the couch, dropping all belongings before plopping down onto cushions and patting the space next to him with that addictive, imploring smile of his.

Kenma sat down, just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his friend and stared awkwardly at his knees. They sat in relative silence, time passing marked only by the clicks of the clock on the far wall and Kenma’s occasional sniffles. A distinctive sort of embarrassment captured him. Not only had he lost a game that meant he could no longer face Shoyo, but then he’d cried about it to the person he left down.

Or on the person he let down.

_Which was worse_.

“Kenma.”

He turned his head slowly towards Shoyo, vision mostly blocked by his hair. A breathy chuckle came from his companion, who brought a hand up to tuck the unruly locks behind one ear. He felt like he’d never seen Shoyo look this way before. So understanding. So knowing. It was a weird sort of thing, to see wisdom on the face of the poster boy for reckless instinctual decisions. But there is was all the same. And it was pretty captivating.

“Did you have fun?”

Kenma thought of the tang of tortured disappointment still floating through his chest. He thought of the tears that streamed down Yaku’s face and Lev’s shoulders which had never been so slumped before. He thought of Kuro and Yaku leaving this year…with nothing to show for it.

But he also thought of Kuro’s smirk when Bokuto had been beaten out of his straights. Of the frustration on Akaashi’s face. He thought of that rush he got when they got a chance ball, when he could try out another move to try to get past the giant obstacle in their way. He thought of how a two point lead had never ever been so _satisfying_.

“…yeah. I just…” Shoyo nodded, imploring him forward. He heaved a deep sigh and clenched his palms in his lap. “I just…wanted to win _so badly._ ”

He closed his eyes, swimming in his own shame. More moisture gathered in his eyes and damnit he didn’t want to cry in front of Shoyo again. Then, he felt a hand slip onto his own. Kenma’s eyes shot open to stare as Shoyo slowly, finger by finger, opened up his hand before lacing their hands together. Kenma could only immediately think of how nice that felt.

Meeting Shoyo’s eyes again, this time squeezing the hand in his own, he murmured, “But yes, I had fun.”

He hadn’t thought Shoyo could smile any wider, but that obviously wasn’t true. His grin grew so large, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Then, good game!”

He thought about calling Shoyo a hypocrite. About saying that Shoyo would have been destroyed had Karasuno lost in the finals. But, instead, he closed his eyes and dropped his head down onto Shoyo’s shoulder and allowed himself a small smile.

\--x--

“Why are you here anyway?”

He hadn’t thought to ask until much later. After Kenma had calmed down enough, Shoyo had revealed that he brought night clothes with him and that he had already asked his mother for permission to stay the night. Of course, had Kenma’s mother declined he would have headed back home, but his mom had been so surprised to see a face that wasn’t Kuro’s in her house and so enchanted by how friendly Shoyo was, that there was no way she would do so. They’d eaten dinner, Shoyo and his mother getting acquainted until Kenma was actually almost scared she would try to adopt the red haired hellion. Then, Shoyo had lost hopelessly in a couple rounds of Mario Cart, claiming to be losing on purpose to boost Kenma’s mood, though they both knew that wasn’t even vaguely true.

Now, having showered and worn themselves out of most of the multiplayer games Kenma had, they laid in Kenma’s bed, talking softly about mostly trivial things. Shoyo stayed quiet for a moment after that inquiry had been made, prompting Kenma to add, “Not that I mind, of course.”

“You didn’t text back, so I asked our Coach if he had any way to check the results of the Tokyo prelims.”

Kenma blinked. “You came all the way to Tokyo because you heard we lost?”

Shoyo paused, sighed, then shifted a bit before replying, “Not….quite.”

They sat in silence for a little while, allowing Kenma’s mind to whirl. Shoyo had always been impulsive. Reckless even. He and Kagayama fought about everything and anything, after all. Kenma had always known Shoyo to be a compassionate, caring individual but to come all this way, not even knowing if he’d be able to stay….

A weird feeling sprouted in Kenma’s chest. Tight, but warm.

“When I heard, I wanted to cry, I was so upset.” Kenma sucked in a breath, listening intently to Shoyo speak. “I kept thinking, ‘Man…now we won’t be able to have the Battle at the Garbage Dump with this group of people.’ And then I thought, if I was that upset, you guys must have been much worse.”

They had been. He’d not seen his team that collectively unhappy in quite some time.

“I remember what it felt like, losing to Aoba Johsai and the Grand King. It was the worst feeling ever. Especially since we fought so damn hard for it. Even then, I was just going to call. See how you were feeling about the game, if you wanted to talk. But then…”

Shoyo shifted, rolling over to face Kenma. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark. He couldn’t look away. _The sun is still bright at night, huh?_

“Then, I remembered our promise. And what I swore to you…about making you feel something about a game. I had wanted you to fall in love with volleyball, like I was. But back then I didn’t even really know what it felt like to be defeated. Caring about things can be fun, sure, but it can also hurt a lot. I guess, I just felt like…if you were upset, it was kinda my fault….ya know, for pushing you so hard.”

Kenma felt his breath hitch. He didn’t know what to say, what to think. How could he possibly communicate to Shoyo that it was ok, that it wasn’t his fault? After all, Shoyo hadn’t made them lose…

Still, he could still recall the anger he felt earlier that day, the blame he had cast himself on the boy beside him…which, it would seem, wasn’t an alien feeling to Shoyo either.

“And if you were upset,” Shoyo continued, rolling over again onto his back to stare at the ceiling once more, “I wanted to do something about it. So I guess, it’s kinda messed up to say, but…I’m glad you were able to rely on me a bit, when I was here. I don’t like that you were sad, but….well….” Shoyo trailed off, then chuckled breathlessly. “I’m glad I could be there for you when you were. I’m glad you felt comfortable crying in front of me and I’m really really glad you let me stay with you.”

They stayed silent for a time after that. Kenma listened intently to the sound of Shoyo’s breathing, trying desperately to control his own. The feeling in his chest, which had been getting more and more intense with every word out of Shoyo’s mouth, now threatened to strangle him. He felt like there was something clawing at his chest, dying to escape. He wanted to say something, anything, but could only mutter “Why?”

Shoyo turned his head, staring deeply into Kenma’s eyes. He supposed this was a moment that most people would call intense. He’d never really had this type on conversation with anyone before, not even Kuro. It was uncomfortable and annoying and he couldn’t really understand, had no idea what to do, but…

He figured Shoyo would show him how to deal with this, as he had so far with all of the other new emotions his presence in Kenma’s life had brought so far.

And he did.

“Why?” he scoffed, reaching over to link their hands, just like he had on the couch, “Well, cuz’ I care about you! Duh!”

The tight feeling exploded into butterflies, tiny warm bubbly fluttering particles that brought a strong flush to his entire body. Kenma was a solitary human being. He didn’t need too many friends, didn’t like people who were too loud or energetic or pushy. But for some strange reason, when Hinata Shoyo had slammed into the walls around his heart, he did nothing to stop them from crumbling down in pieces. There were still chunks left after that night, but far fewer than ever before and far weaker. It was almost no challenge at all for Shoyo to draw information, attention, small smiles and, yes, even laughs out of Kenma from that point forward. It was just too hard to deny him anything, that orange haired maniac with a severe volleyball addiction and so much genuine affection to give out that it made Kenma a bit dizzy.

So he didn’t try.

If anyone ever asked him why he fell in love with Hinata Shoyo, he’d think of that moment. Not how it started. Not the moment he realized it. Probably not even the moment he fell in love with him. But if any single event completely encapsulated why Shoyo had grown so precious to him, that was it.

\--x--

Sometimes Kenma wonders how he got here. In his dorm room at his University in his hometown surrounded by his personal possessions, sitting down next to Hinata Shoyo who had come to visit him for the weekend. Shoyo, who was currently screeching at the final boss fight in Final Fantasy XIII, jerking around as if he were physically fighting, and who inevitably lost again, flopping down from the bed to the floor with a whine. Kenma, who was only half watching the chaos, burst out in extremely unattractive chortles at the red head’s plight and loud thump, causing said boy to sharply look up at him.

“Oi!” Shoyo called in mock offense, crawling up to get up in Kenma’s face. He was already grinning, pleased to have caused such glee to appear on Kenma’s face. “Why’re you laughin’ at me, huh? Huhhh?!”

Kenma cracked an eye open, smiling serenely. Shoyo really was so loud. Luckily, Kenma knew how to shut him up.

“Because I love you.”

A scarlet blush spread across Shoyo’s cheeks and he buried his head in the edge of the bed with a rather muted yelp of “loveyoutoo” that his bemused boyfriend only barely could make out.

Sometimes….Kenma wonders how he got here.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Hey friends, hope you liked it. This was my first post on AO3 ever :) If you have more requests for cute KenHina or even KageHina fluff or smut, lemme know. Currently planning another fic to accompany this one which may be rated M :P


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